


polaroids

by twipri



Series: Sodom South Georgia [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Female Character of Color, Empath, F/F, F/M, Lesbian Character, Loss of Virginity, Past Relationship(s), Psychic Abilities, References to Alcohol, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:33:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9820694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twipri/pseuds/twipri
Summary: A series of short vignettes to build my characters and the relationships between them.





	1. libramentum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She remembers the stars staring down at her, that she could never forget.
> 
> prompt- virginity

Caroline lost her virginity at the age of fifteen.

Out behind the house of mirrors, she tumbled into the sparse grass with a boy whose name she could no longer remember. They had taken a pretty pink pill and gone on carnival rides, getting high both figuratively and literally.

There in the grass, he hovered above her and thrusted erratically while she lost herself to the new chemicals racing their way through her system. It didn't hurt the way she had been told it would. She barely remembered the act itself; he didn't last long.

What she did remember was the neon lights of the ferris wheel glinting off of his hair, the smell of popcorn and cotton candy and vomit, the hard ground scraping against her spine, and the way the stars seemed to be watching her.

The sky that night had been unnaturally clear, even with the bright artificial lights of the carnival. If she concentrated hard enough, she could pick out constellations; Draco, Hercules, Ara, Corona Borealis, the Southern Triangle. Concentration was hard for her to manage in this state however, so she let her consciousness float until it appeared the stars were below her and she was looking down upon them.

It was beautiful, and she could feel herself falling, but she was not afraid.


	2. like watercolors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet at a party, and Caroline can't wrench her eyes away.

They met at a party. Cass had been teaching a group of entranced boys how to tie a cherry stem with their tongues, and Caroline had been discussing the merits of craft beer with some friends from her cousin’s band when their eyes first met. Caroline broke eye contact almost immediately. She never could grasp how to talk to girls, and the loud blonde intimidated her already. A couple shots later and Cass was dancing on the table, belting out a song that hadn't been popular in thirty years, the tune of which was far from the bass-heavy electronica that blasted through the speakers and rattled the windowpanes. Caroline had been on the couch for the better part of an hour, nursing the same IPA she had been handed when she first walked in and watching the colors mutate around the vibrant girl in her periphery.

That was a hobby of hers-- people-watching. For as long as she could remember she had been able to see auras. Her mother told her that those things ran in the family. She could tell when people were lying, or happy, or bored. She could tell how they felt about the person next to them, and could get a very distinct first impression of their personality-- the more often an emotion occurred, the brighter it would stain.

The tiny girl singing on the table held her attention. It wasn't that her aura was particularly unique, everyone had a complex network of colors that broadcasted their emotions and personalities to the curious empath, but this girl-- "Cassandra Ryan, that's my best friend," she had been told by one of the band members after being caught staring-- had already caught her eye. And again, she was curious. 

A base of bright vermillion that stung to look at-- she was outspoken, daring, determined, and reckless-- was shot through with threads of golden compassion. Her aura was further dotted with yellows for exhilaration, happiness, hope, and naivety, and was clouded by a nearly transparent layer that signified her drunkenness. Almost impossible to see in the dim lighting of the room were the dark stains of grief and encroaching madness that lingered on the edges-- she must have been ignoring those feelings for years.

Caroline didn’t realize she had been staring until the girl turned to look her in the eyes. Embarrassed, the psychic ducked her head and averted her eyes.

“This next song goes out to that pretty girl in the ugly sweater!” Bugged brown eyes darted up, to be met with a knowing wink followed by an absolutely atrocious butchering of an 80s rock ballad. 


	3. reunited and it feels so good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline had imagined their reunion one thousand times over.  
> She never thought it would be like this.

Cass was screaming, and even after everything the last two hundred and seventy-three years had put her through, Caroline had to flinch. Cassandra Ryan didn't yell. Not when she was angry, anyways. She pouted and gave the silent treatment. She'd go off the grid and come back days later, having worked things out on her own, ready to succinctly explain exactly what had upset her, why, and how to avoid things like this in the future. But right now? She was screaming.

“ _Priya_ , please, just take a minute and listen to me, will you?” Caroline struggled to stifle her shock and aggravation, hiding it under a mask of calm. “I wish it hadn't turned out this way, really, I do. But what could I have done?”

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. Cassandra snapped her head towards her, blonde curls whipping with the motion. Her gaze burned into Caroline's soul, and it was all that she could do not to look away from her used-to-be beloved’s tearful green eyes.

“What could you have _done?_ I don't know, Caroline. What _could_ you have done? It's not as if you've been hanging out with my bosses and that fucking witch my brother fools around with. _They_ knew you were alive and well, didn't they? As a matter of fact, it seems that everyone knew except for me. I spent _a year_ thinking you were dead. I mourned you. I watched them lower your casket into the ground, and _you let me_.”

This time, Caroline couldn't stop herself from averting her eyes.

“Time works differently there. I lived for nearly _three centuries_  there, Cass. It never occured to me that I would get the chance to see you again. I didn't intend to cause you any harm.”

Cass had her hands in her hair, ripping at the golden curls, which only served to increase the frizz that had formed due to humidity and stress. “Please. Please, please, please, pleasepleaseplease _please._ Just _stop!_ STOP! SHUT _UP!”_ What had started as a whisper raised to a crescendo, and Cassandra could feel her last restraints snapping. _“_ LET ME _BREATHE!”_

Because it felt like she was being smothered; a hot fire under her skin turning her cheeks pink and stealing the air from her lungs. Seeing her face after a year and a half of her being gone, being _dead,_ that was…

But she had compartmentalized for the sake of her best friend. She had tucked it away to deal with later, sealing off the volatile emotions that were throwing themselves against her barriers like waves against the shore.

But Caroline had _died_. She had been dead for over a year. That… her death had ruined her.

And to have her act as if it were completely fine! Completelyfucking _fine_ for her to come back out of the blue and insert herself into her life again-- and in such a horrid way at that. What did she expect? That Cass would be happy to see her again? That there would be no hard feelings?

Cass paced. Her eyes were filled with tears which made her even angrier because she _wasn't_ sad, she _wasn't,_ she was _pissed,_ and she _didn't_ cry, not anymore, not since… but here she was, looking like a goddamn _pussy_ in front of Caroline. Who had finally stopped talking, thank fuck.

Caroline had her arms wrapped around herself, her head bowed. If Cass wasn’t so goddamn pissed she would have laughed. As if _she_ were the threat. As if _she_ was the one who had a reputation of needlessly hurting her loved ones. As if _she_ had disappeared for over a year and come back as some inhuman _thing._

She hadn’t even bothered to say hello.


	4. outlook not so good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caroline reflects on the actions that got her where she is.

You know how they say hindsight is 20/20? Funny thing that.  
Growing up psychic, raised by a medium mother, I was taught to think that foresight was the important thing.  
If you're prepared enough for a negative outcome, you may be able to alter your fate. You may be able to look forward and protect yourself.  
I was also taught that sometimes, there was nothing we could do to change our fate, only steps to delay it.  
I should have listened harder. Maybe if I had, I’d still be able to see.


	5. better off not asking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass and Caroline can finally sit down and talk, something neither thought would ever be possible.

“Did you ever think of me while you were gone?”  
“Cassandra.”  
“Don't ‘Cassandra’ me. I need to know. I thought about you everyday since I last saw you. Was it just me?”  
Caroline sighed, and in the dim light of the candles her hair seemed to bleach lighter with her exhaustion.  
“I would be lying if I said I thought about you everyday. I'm not a liar, Cass.”  
The pale girl made a choked sound, coughing to muffle her hurt. “You used to be”, she muttered under her breath. The inflection in her voice said that it wasn't a bad thing.  
They were both silent for a few minutes, the light flickering off of their skin.  
Caroline then began to speak quietly, her eyes faraway, glued to the floorboards.  
“At first, I remember, I did think of you every day. Remembering your eyes, your voice, your smile,” her full lips twitched into a bittersweet smirk, “the way it felt against my lips… it was the only thing that stopped me from going utterly insane. I was so alone, everything was so strange and foreign. They were so _violent_. Nothing I had seen through the veil prepared me for it.”  
“What changed?” Cass stared at her intently, watching the way the brown skinned girl chipped away at her nail polish.  
“Everything. Me.” Caroline reached up, long fingers absentmindedly brushing her silver hair. “I learned to roll with the punches, as I believe you'd say.” Cass winced at her formality, but said nothing.  
“I adapted, I grew. You don't spend three lifetimes in a new culture and stay stagnant. You live, you learn, you change, you forget.”  
“Did you forget about me?”  
Caroline looked to the small blonde perched stiffly on her bed and shook her head. “Forget you? Never.”  
Cassandra was taken aback by the stark honesty in those brown eyes. Even the left one, dull and blind, seemed to spark with an emotion she couldn't place.  
Caroline was the first to look away, leaning back against her pillows, her arm brushing Cassandra’s stiff form.  
“Care,” Cass murmured, her voice a question.  
Amber eyes flicked up to her, a silent cue to continue.  
“Did you try?”


End file.
